


Wake-Up Call

by Shaleschnueffler



Series: Dreamscape [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5 Times, Adorable, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Caring Dean Winchester, Caring Gabriel (Supernatural), Coma, Comatose Sam Winchester, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dogs, Dreams, Dreamscapes, Dreamsharing, Dying Sam Winchester, Established Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Fear, Fear of Death, Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Headcanon, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Insomniac Sam Winchester, Kissing, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Missing Persons, Near Death Experiences, Protective Gabriel, Sabriel Is My Tea, Series, Short, Sleep, disbelief, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-05 08:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18362219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaleschnueffler/pseuds/Shaleschnueffler
Summary: Living a relationship with an archangel in one's dreams definitely has some perks. But the downsides are undeniable.Sam doesn't exactly like waking up; preferring the peaceful, bright scenery of his dreams and all, but he knows that he has a job to do in the real world. The one thing he hates, though? Being raised from his sleep in the middle of the night, unable to fall back asleep - until one day, he's unable to wake back up.Or: Five times Sam wanted to stay asleep and one time he didn't.





	Wake-Up Call

**Author's Note:**

> Again, not content with this one. But have it anyway! Just a small addition to my Dreamscape series, again with fluff and angst bc why tf not amiright?

It had been he-didn't-know-how-long since Gabriel had first hijacked his dreams without his permission, and he'd long grown used to falling asleep just to be greeted by the archangel on the beautiful green meadow that had become his favorite scenery in his dreams. Of course, Gabriel snapped them elsewhere now and then, eager to _"make your dreams less boring, Samsquatch"_ , but almost every night they spent at least a few minutes laying on a blanket on the green grass, looking up into the clear blue sky.  
  
However, despite all the advantages that this whole dream situation had, there were some things bothering the hunter if he was being honest - and it wasn't only the fact that he could only see Gabriel when he was asleep, although that definitely was one of the main points as he found himself missing the archangel throughout the day more often than not. No, one of the worst things was that it was fairly easy to pull Sam out of his dream world and into reality. He was a hunter after all, and even though his sleep had gotten a lot deeper and more refreshing ever since Gabriel had shown up, his job practically forced him to be on high alert at all times. And god, it was getting on his nerves.  
  
The first time it had happened because of himself.  
  
It had been some time after the angel had first entered his dreams and they'd somehow worked things out until they'd kissed. Things had gotten way more serious after that; they'd talked about their feelings (only for five minutes or so before Gabriel had assaulted him again but that had already been more than Sam could've hoped for), set boundaries, and had decided to take small steps in their relationship until they'd figured everything out - although it had been only four nights later when they'd thrown that guideline out the window and fallen into bed together. Sam had been sure of what he'd been doing back then, reassuring Gabriel countless times - because the archangel had turned out to be more careful and considerate than the hunter could've ever imagined -, and it had been amazing.  
  
Well, it _had_ been - until he'd found himself on the hard, cold ground in his own room in the bunker, tangled up in his sheets, at least. Groaning in both annoyance and pain, and wiping the sweat off his forehead, he'd pulled the blanket off his heated body and after laying back down in bed, trying - and failing - to fall back asleep for over thirty minutes, he'd eventually given up and gotten up to take a shower instead, cursing under his breath.  
  
The next night, he'd still been grumpy, and when Gabriel had raised a questioning eyebrow at him with that amused dumbass smirk on his lips, he'd simply glared at him, deeply ashamed but too proud and pissed off to even try to explain that it hadn't been the angel's _"skills in bed"_ but the floor that had raised him out of his sleep. Gabriel had continued teasing him for a while until Sam had effectively shut him up.  
  
That first time had still had a good outcome, at least partly.  
  
The second time it had happened because of the circumstances.  
  
They'd been out, on the road to hunt a shifter they'd spotted a few states away, and somehow, they'd ended up in the middle of nowhere, out on the street at three in the morning with no motel anywhere around. They'd been stranded on some deserted road somewhere away from all civilization, not knowing how the hell they'd ended up here. After twenty minutes of angry shouting and fighting and blaming each other, Dean had pulled over, stopped the engine and told Sam to get in the backseat. The taller man had complied without asking any more questions, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary, causing his brother to cast him a deadly glare, but in the end, both men had curled up in the car, using their jackets as blankets in a desperate attempt to keep themselves warm.  
  
It had been a whole hour later when Sam had finally managed to fall asleep, and the first thing he'd seen when he'd opened his eyes again, had been - who would've thought - Gabriel, sitting on a couch with his feet propped up on a table, snapping up small balls to toss them into a trash bin positioned at the opposite side of the room. The hunter had blinked in confusion while the angel had shot up from his seat, throwing one of the balls right at Sam's face, obviously a little pissed off. When Gabriel had launched himself at the tall man to tackle him to the floor, he'd already understood that the trickster had once again been worrying about his whereabouts because he'd been later than usual.  
  
Once Gabriel had calmed down again, the two of them had sat down on the couch, had talked and cuddled; Sam had complained about Dean's annoying bickering, the warmth surrounding him had been comfortable and pleasant - until he'd opened his eyes and seen the familiar roof of the Impala right in front of him. Or well, above him, rather. He'd sighed, rolling over and trying to force himself to fall back asleep, his hands cold as ice and his whole body shaking. One look at his phone had told him that it had been four in the morning, but the cold had kept him awake nonetheless.  
  
And so he'd kept laying there, staring at the car roof. He'd contemplated getting out of the Impala to at least have the stars to look at but the effort had turned out not to be worth it. Missing the warmth that had been embracing him in his dreams, he'd waited for the sun to rise, listening to Dean's heavy breathing and the rustling of the leaves outside while watching his own breath escape his mouth in small clouds of white fog.  
  
The third time it had happened because of his family.  
  
They'd barely made it through that last hunt, and when Sam had collapsed into bed at one in the morning, he'd fallen asleep almost immediately, with his jacket and shoes still on. When he'd opened his eyes in the dream world, his surroundings had been plain and empty - a fitting portrayal of his emotions, since six people had died during their apparent "rescue" that had probably cost more lives than the vampire nest would have ended. They had killed all the monsters, yes, but all the people involved had had to die as well. In the end, they'd stood alone in the middle of fifteen corpses, clothes soaked in blood.  
  
Gabriel had sauntered over, hands buried in his pockets and whistling some tune Sam hadn't been able to recognize. When he'd thrown one of his usual remarks at the hunter, he'd snapped at the angel, but no matter how loud he'd shouted and how hard he'd punched, Gabriel had taken all the hits, both the mental and physical ones. In the end, Sam had broken down and spilled his thoughts and feelings, knowing that the archangel would read his mind anyway if he didn't, and the shorter man had pulled him closer, had held him, silently, just listening to his worries.  
  
He'd spoken up then, had said something Sam hadn't quite caught, but the word Savior had fallen from his lips, and suddenly, everything had been bright, and golden, just like back then, just like in that first night. Gabriel had distracted him from the memories, from the discomfort, from the doubt and the worries and the endless "What If?"s - until his vision had started to blur in front of his eyes, and the soft, soothing voice had turned into loud, _deafeningly loud_ , shouting.  
  
Dean had been holding on to his shoulders as he'd shaken him awake, repeating the words "Come on, Sam!" and "We gotta go!" over and over again. The taller hunter had grabbed his gun from under his pillow and gotten up, saying nothing at all, the warmth and the comfort of Gabriel's arms wrapped around him long gone.  
  
Due to the emergency that had been a fellow hunter who'd gotten into really deep trouble, Sam hadn't even had a chance to catch up on the sleep he'd missed that night. Instead, he'd drowned in self-pity and self-hatred, motionlessly laying on the bedroom floor and biting back the tears stinging in his eyes.  
  
The fourth time it had happened because of the dream.  
  
It had been right after Sam had complained about Dean not wanting any pets in the bunker that Gabriel had effortlessly snapped a dog into existence - or, well, three of them, actually. A giant, gentle wolf dog, a perky and active Corgi, and a beautiful, fluffy Leonberger that had practically launched themselves at the hunter, panting excitedly. He'd enjoyed both the attention and the comfort, as well as the slight nostalgia caused by the sound of friendly barks and the feeling of wet dog tongues on his hands. They'd sat there for quite some time, playing fetch with all three of the dogs, feeding them treats, and at some point, Gabriel had gotten up and started an actual race with the animals while Sam had watched them run and play with a genuine smile on his face.  
  
Once the dogs hadn't had any more energy left, they had huddled together on a couch Gabriel had snapped up, with a blanket carelessly thrown over their laps and three worn-out, drooling balls of fur sprawled out on top of them as they'd kissed, slowly and lovingly. It had been perfect, like the peaceful, beautiful life Sam had always wanted but had never had - they'd talked about pets, and the animal friends they'd had to leave behind during their time on earth; Sam had told the angel a lot about Bones and Riot, and had learned just as much about the Jack Russell Terrier Gabriel had owned back when they'd first met. However, when his boyfriend had casually mentioned that he'd called his dog "dog", Sam had started laughing uncontrollably, pathetically choking out a "Me too!" while trying not to fall off the couch, and every single glance at Gabriel's puzzled face had just made it worse.  
  
He'd had the time of his life, really.  
  
Until his eyes had snapped open and he'd found himself lying in his bed all of a sudden, breathing and heartbeat quicker than usual, that was. He'd rolled over to stare at the ceiling, a little confused and with his brows furrowed as his tired and sleep-drunken brain had tried to catch up with what had happened. When it had eventually dawned on him that he'd just literally _laughed himself awake_ , he'd broken out into laughter again, sitting up in his bed so he wouldn't choke from how hard he was gasping for air.  
  
That time, waking up hadn't really been a problem. No, the way Gabriel had laughed when he'd told him about what had happened the next night had definitely been worth it.  
  
The fifth time it had happened because of his surroundings.  
  
Having spent a whole lot of time together, Sam had gotten to know Gabriel quite well over the nights; they'd exchanged many stories about their families but mostly, it had been light ones, memories they liked to remember and they were glad to share. The hunter hadn't needed long to realize that Gabriel had avoided details on his own whereabouts and emotions and tended to hide the latter rather well - except for the usual cheeky smirk, the caring, thoughtful frown, and the expression he wore when he was yelling at Sam for some shit he'd pulled, he hadn't seen a lot of the angel so far.  
  
And anytime he'd tried to broach deeper subjects, Gabriel had managed to somehow steer the conversation to a different topic without Sam noticing. That time, though, he'd been eager to finally get the archangel to talk about where he'd been and what he'd been up to, simply because he _cared_. Gabriel knew about what he'd been doing all this time, both because he'd watched a few parts of it and because Sam had told him a _damn lot_. But the angel himself? He'd only talked about his childhood and the good things that had happened to him, about candy, and porn stars (Sam definitely hadn't been jealous, totally not), and the way he'd kicked someone's ass.  
  
So Sam had set himself to get some more background information on Gabriel's past, and especially on the past few months or years; and that night, he'd finally taken the first step. The angel had brushed it off, Sam had pushed further, and so things had spiraled out of control again. At first, Gabriel had only blocked him off but, of course, they'd started shouting at each other at some point.  
  
After ten minutes or so, Sam had finally managed to get the angel to let his guard down a little, and he'd been sure that Gabriel had been going to spill at least _some_ info in the next few minutes - until he'd felt his dream shift and blur. It had been one of those times, when he noticed that he was waking up but couldn't do anything about it. And so he'd helplessly watched Gabriel shrug his shoulders with a false apologetic smile before he'd found himself laying in his bed with his eyes closed, the smell of burnt bacon and too strong coffee so present he scrunched up his nose in distaste. Even through the closed door and the hallway, the fragrance had reached his room and raised him from his sleep.  
  
Forcing himself to get up, he'd staggered into the kitchen where Castiel had been trying to prepare breakfast, with Dean watching from the opposite side of the room. The dumb comment that the older hunter had dropped upon seeing Sam on the threshold had earned him a solid punch to the face.  
  
  
Most of these times, he'd been furious, had thrown a fit and complained about being woken up, had tried everything to fall back asleep. Now, though, he was scared he was never going to ever open his eyes again.  
  
Because the sixth time was different than all the others.  
  
When the night began, everything seemed totally normal - Gabriel was a little late but that mystery was soon to be solved as well as the archangel commented on how Sam was "earlier than usual", praising him for finally going to sleep at a reasonable time. They spent some time together, talking, cuddling, kissing, the usual stuff, and they had just started watching some show on Netflix when Gabriel suddenly spoke up, looking down at an invisible watch on his wrist.  
  
\- "Whoa, Sammich, it's been six hours already, that's four more than usual!", he teased, grinning at the hunter, but Sam could see the genuine relief on the angel's face, and so he pressed impossibly closer, humming in acknowledgment.  
  
Everything was alright then. And it was still alright two episodes later. However, that was when Sam noticed something, a sound, muffled and barely audible, but he caught it anyway, and somehow, it stuck to him.  
  
\- "What was that?", he asked, sitting up a little and looking around in confusion, unable to make out the origin of the sound.  
  
\- "What?"  
  
\- "That voice"  
  
Gabriel paused the video to frown at him.  
  
\- "I didn't hear anything"  
  
The hunter sat still for another few seconds before he shrugged it off and huddled back up against his boyfriend, motioning for him to resume.  
  
It was only some minutes later that his surroundings started to blur, and Sam huffed in annoyance and regret as he tightened his grip on Gabriel, not willing to go just yet, but the dream faded nonetheless. Then the confusion set in. And then the panic.  
  
What he was looking at wasn't the ceiling of his own room, and neither was it the roof of the Impala. It was white, and way too bright, and there was an ugly brown spot right above him. He would've remembered a spot this disgusting. He tried to lift his head to look around, to find out where he was and to _get the hell out_ , but he couldn't, as if his whole body was frozen in place; couldn't even move his eyes as if they were pinned to the ceiling, but he heard voices around him, felt the cold from where the blanket wasn't covering his whole foot, smelled something _so very familiar_. The voices still sounded distant, and he had troubles understanding anything at all, his ears ringing and his own rushing blood drowning out all the sounds, but he didn't need to anyway, because when everything went dark again, he'd already understood.  
  
\- "Back so fast? Did you train falling asleep or something? Or is it just finally the sleep deprivation kicking-"  
  
\- "Wake me up", he ordered immediately once he'd gotten used to his surroundings and the goddamn feeling of nausea had vanished, harshly interrupting the angel who furrowed his brows at him.  
  
\- "Why?"  
  
\- "I'm in a coma, Gabe. You need to wake me up, _now."_  
  
Gabriel, however, didn't seem too convinced.  
  
\- "How the hell do you know?"  
  
\- "I saw it, I heard Dean. Please, Gabriel, just this one time."  
  
\- "Sam, I--"  
  
\- "What's the worst that could happen?!"  
  
\- "Oh, you mean besides fucking you up completely? You do realize that sleep deprivation can actually _kill you?"_  
  
Sam snorted, rolling his eyes.  
  
\- "Gabriel, I might die if you _don't_ do it now. _Okay?_ So you decide if you want me to _fucking live_ , or _die_ because _you",_ he growled, emphasizing the last word and accusingly glaring at his boyfriend, "decided we could only meet in my _dreams."_  
  
Worrying his bottom lip, the archangel ran a hand through his golden hair before he sighed, resigning.  
  
\- "Right, okay. Whatever. Only this time, kiddo."  
  
Visibly discontent with the whole situation but apparently understanding the graveness of it, Gabriel carefully raised his hand and placed two fingers on Sam's forehead. He frowned, trying one, two, three more times but then he seemed to surrender, dropping his hand and wordlessly staring up at the hunter.  
  
\- "What?", he breathed, softly, and Sam nervously flexed his fingers.  
  
\- "Gabriel, I swear, if you are fucking with me--"  
  
\- "I'm not! Well, not the kind of fucking you are talking about, that is."  
  
Sam took a deep breath.  
  
\- "Fuck."

  
  
\---

  
  
\- "It's been _four days_ , Sam. How the hell haven't Dean-o and Cassie figured anything out by now?"  
  
Sam didn't even bother to lift his head from where it was placed on Gabriel's chest as he sighed, not wanting to be reminded of all the time he'd spent sleeping by now. Yeah, he got to be around his boyfriend for way longer than ever before, and it would've been pleasant if it hadn't been for the _damn flashes of reality_ that kept getting through to him, the beeping noise of the machines, Castiel's voice, the nurse's babbling, and, the worst of all, Dean's eyes lighting up with hope and relief whenever his hazel ones opened for a few seconds. He wanted to speak up, to tell his family that he was alright, that he wasn't in any pain, but he couldn't. Couldn't even lift a single finger. And it was the worst torture he'd ever had to go through.  
  
\- "I don't know, Gabe. Can we please not talk about this?"  
  
\- _"Not talk about this?_ You mean _not talk about the fact that you're dying?"_  
  
\- "It's just making it worse", he huffed, letting his eyes slip shut. He was so tired. In his _dreams_. Oh, the _irony_. "Can I sleep here?", he asked, loudly breathing out through his nose as he realized just how stupid he must sound.  
  
\- "Here as in, 'in your dreams' or here as in 'on top of me'?"  
  
\- "Both?"  
  
\- "Not sure about the former if I'm being honest. I don't know a lot about this whole dream thing."  
  
\- "Yeah, I noticed", Sam murmured, pulling Gabriel closer and inhaling in his scent.

  
\---

  
  
\- "Why are you even still here? You say it's been two weeks and you're still hanging around", Sam mumbled some time later.  
  
They'd run out of things to do, and while Gabriel had seemed somewhat okay with the situation at the beginning, after over fourteen days even he had started to freak out over the fact that Sam had been stuck there with him for such a long time - and he was being rather open about it, too. Constantly wringing his hands or drumming his fingers, asking if the hunter was okay, pacing the room, getting lost in thought - while Sam was at least _trying_ to keep his calm, Gabriel had turned into a nervous wreck.  
  
\- "I won't leave you, Sam", he said once he'd whipped around to stare at the taller man in disbelief, his eyes filled with worry and care. "Coma itself is bad enough, I won't let this shit eat you up completely!"  
  
\- "Gabe, you're vulnerable like this, you--"  
  
\- "I don't _care!",_ Gabriel protested, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat - they had gone for a walk in some snowy park in the middle of nowhere so the angel had snapped up some warmer clothes and scarves (and _damn_ , he looked _good_ wearing those, and if the situation hadn't been so fucked up, Sam would've definitely launched himself at Gabriel right fucking now) - as the wind grew stronger for a second, some snowflakes getting caught in his wavy hair.  
  
\- "But _I_ do! It's not worth it if _you_ die just so _I_ can live! It's not fair!"  
  
\- "Oh hell yes it is, Sammich. One hundred percent if you ask me."  
  
Sam snorted, shaking his head. Why did they always have to argue about everything? And always about the same things, too - Gabriel simply wouldn't understand that his life wasn't as worthless as he kept claiming it was. Yes, he loved the angel, more than his own life actually, but dealing with him and his fits was a real challenge most of the time.  
  
\- "Well, good that I _didn't ask you_. If you care about me, leave. And get back here once you're safe."  
  
With that, he turned around and left, pulling his own jacket tighter around himself.

  
\---

  
  
Gabriel had, in fact, left back then, if only for a few hours, a day at most. And when he returned, he seemed refreshed, a little less on edge - quite the contrary to before. And also quite the contrary to Sam. Shortly after the angel had snapped himself out of the dream, things had gotten way worse, and the hunter still couldn't tell if it had just been horrible timing or if Gabriel's leaving had actually triggered something inside his brain; but what he _did_ know was that there had been nightmares. And they'd never stopped, seeing as he'd never woken up, not really. Every short flash of reality, every second of seeing the white ceiling and hearing Dean's voice had been like a short break from all the sorrow and suffering and pain - until he'd dived back down into his subconscious mind, just to be faced with yet another terrifying dream that seemed too real to be one.  
  
It had felt like some kind of fucked-up schizophrenia. The constant shifts between reality and dream, the voices, the smells, the feelings, his surroundings. He'd been unable to tell what was real and what wasn't. He still was. Even after Gabriel had returned to him, apologizing again and again for having left, reassuring multiple times that yes, he was safe now, and yes, he could stay until the very end, and he _would stay_ until the very end - no matter if it was the end of the coma or the end of Sam's life, although both men refused to even consider the latter scenario. Or to say it out loud, therefore.  
  
His dreams turned into an actual battle then. The nightmares didn't vanish, not completely. There were more insights on reality than before but none of them knew if it was a good or a bad thing. But the nightmares, they stayed. People he hadn't managed to save, Dean, Castiel, himself, they showed up and went, planting doubts and fears inside his head, and no matter how much they both tried, they couldn't shut them out. Not even Gabriel, the archangel, one of the mightiest creatures on earth, could, although he tried his hardest to control them. From time to time, Sam would black out completely, oblivious to the angel's desperate shouts and the hands trying to shake him awake, but when he returned to the dreamscape, he couldn't even remember a thing of the bygone minutes; could only feel the emptiness and the pain they had left inside him.  
  
They spent more time in silence than ever before.

  
\---

  
  
\- "I'm dying", Sam said one day, completely out of the blue as he sat down, massaging his temples in order to get the headache to die down a little but it only seemed to make it even worse. Gabriel's voice was stern, yet filled with panic and fear when he responded, putting a hand to the hunter's head to ease the pain but Sam wrapped his fingers around his wrist to stop him. He couldn't waste his grace on such vanities.  
  
\- " _You're not_ , Sam."  
  
\- "I _am_. Look at me, Gabe! You can't even control my dreams anymore! Fucking accept it, okay?!"  
  
\- "No", the angel ground out, and with a flap of his wings, he was gone.  
  
Sam cursed loudly, wildly yelling into nothingness, his voice hoarse and his whole body hurting. Gabriel returned only a minute later, but relief turned into despair as the creation of his own fucked-up brain raised his voice with a cold smile.  
  
\- "You let me die. It's only fair I do the same thing to you, right?"  
  
And the worst thing was that Sam couldn't help but agree.

  
\---

  
  
It was just like back when he'd tried to cure Crowley and lapsed into a coma. Well, except it was even worse. There was no decision making here, no familiar faces, just distorted hallucinations and frauds of people he used to know, _still knew_ , feeding on his emotions and desperation. He couldn't cast them out, couldn't run, couldn't hide, couldn't kill. This time, he couldn't do anything at all, could only watch and wait and try to push through. Doubts and fears and worries were planted in his brain and he could feel how quickly, how pathetically he was falling apart. The glimpses of reality were something between a relief and a stab to the heart. Dean was always there. Always talking. And it was both a comfort and a pain to see how much his brother cared.  
  
Sometimes, he was awake for up to five minutes, listening to the older hunter's voice, attempting to find comfort in it, to gather his strength and hope before he had to return to his nightmare land.  
  
But Gabriel still wasn't there.

  
\---

  
  
He couldn't do this anymore. It had been so long. It felt like years. Every minute felt like an hour, every hour felt like a week. He was so tired, so worn out, but he couldn't get any rest. The ghosts, the hallucinations, the games his mind was playing with him, were keeping him on his feet. He felt just like back when Lucifer had stuck to him like gum to the sole of a shoe - he just wanted to lie down and sleep, to escape and have some peace, and he wasn't even _awake_ , for fuck's sake! How had it all gotten so far? How had he gone comatose and driven Gabriel away in a matter of _weeks?_  
  
Maybe it was just his corrupted brain speaking, but he was a failure. Oh, and what a failure! Worse than ever before. Dean and Castiel were wasting so much time because of him. They could be out there, saving people, hunting things, but they were there with him, _because of him._ People were dying _because of him_. As always. So many years and nothing had changed. He laughed, bitterly.  
  
He walked past yet another Charlie. He'd been walking for a day or two, he couldn't tell, there was no sun, but it was better than stopping. Better than sitting in silence with only the dream figures keeping him company. Walking meant he had something to do, something to focus on. Because things kept shifting around him. The people and sceneries were changing back and forth, nothing stayed the same for long. His mind was a mess.  
  
He was in an alleyway now. Bleeding from all the times he'd tripped and fallen or stumbled into thorns along the way; exhausted from staying up for so long and from walking without purpose. Feeling so miserable. He'd placed one hand on the wall of the narrow alley for support, sure that he would fall over if he tried to walk freely. There were voices in his head, and he didn't know what was real anymore, there were black spots dancing in front of his eyes, people moving around him, threatening to crush him, Dean was talking to him but the words were so muffled, so distant he couldn't catch them. Another, louder voice cut him off, he saw Jess in front of him and his chest tightened uncomfortably at the sight, and so he turned around, just to be faced with a million faces, some he knew and others he'd never seen, or simply couldn't remember.  
  
There were no words spoken but the expressions on their faces were enough anyway. It had been his fault. He'd killed them. Had killed them all. He fell to the ground, squinching his eyes shut, trying to block off the voices, screaming and shouting in an attempt to drown out the noises. Pain, so much pain. He felt cold, and lonely, and hurt.  
  
The next time he raised his eyes, their eyes lit up. _Everything did._  
  
Golden, bright, so beautiful. And then everything went black.

  
\---

  
  
His eyes snapped open, but it was different. This time, it was different. There was a pleasant warmth coursing through his body. His eyes were set on the corner of the room. The corner. Not the ceiling. _Not the ceiling_. His heart rate picked up as he forced his hand to shift slightly, and he couldn't help but gasp when it actually moved, drawing attention to himself. There was no pain, nothing. He felt numb. But it was a good kind of numb.  
  
\- "Cas! Cas, call someone!", a familiar voice shouted, sounding deafeningly loud in Sam's ringing ears, and he cringed noticeably. "Sam? Sammy, can you hear me?"  
  
He breathed out audibly, moving his head in something that resembled a nod. He didn't trust his voice just yet. He was alive. He was there, he was _fully there._  
  
The happiness of both his family and the staff was truly overwhelming - quite literally, too. He fell asleep again before the doctors had even pushed the door open and ushered Dean and Castiel out; adrenaline pumping through his veins. But it was okay. He was alive. He would be okay. He just needed to tell Gabriel now, and then they'd go back to the bunker and pick up their lives again.  
  
It was okay. Everything was okay.  
  
\- "I woke up!", he shouted once he found himself standing right in his dream world again, but no response came. But it was okay. There was no nightmare, not yet. _It was okay._ _He'd made it. It had been three and a half weeks and he'd made it._  
  
_It was okay._  
  
But the sinking feeling in his guts stayed. Gabriel still wasn't there. And so he sat down on the ground, and screamed from the top of his lungs.

  
\---

  
  
The next time he woke up, it was with streaks of dried tears on his face and with his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Dean was looking down at him, brows furrowed in worry, while Castiel stood a few feet away from him.  
  
\- "You shouted in your sleep, Sam", the angel informed like it was of importance, _like Sam didn't know_ , and the tall hunter shrugged with one shoulder, closing his eyes again.  
  
\- "What happened?", he asked softly after Dean had given him some water, and he coughed pathetically before catching himself.  
  
\- "You don't remember? Demons, whole load of them, ganked you real good", his brother huffed, the hint of a laugh in his voice but Sam knew that he was simply covering up his relief. At the words, some memories seemed to flood back to him but everything was still blurry, and even trying to think back to that nasty hunt made him feel sick, so he decided not to.  
  
\- "Almost four weeks, huh?", he mumbled instead, and Dean nodded, silently. "When can I get out?"  
  
\- "Oh yeah, that's the other thing, man! You're perfectly healthy, Cas says he didn't do shit but I don't believe him, I mean look at you! You had three broken ribs, dude, that doesn't just heal in a matter of weeks!"  
  
Sam could see Castiel roll his eyes from where he was stood, and when the angel reassured once more that he had nothing to do with this and Dean waved him off, he couldn't help but chuckle softly. He had his family back. And he didn't even care how it had happened.  
  
Over the next two days, the memories came back to him almost completely, he remembered the way he'd crashed into the brick wall and knives had buried themselves in his body. Not a pleasant memory, but at least he now knew just how he'd ended up tied to this hospital bed. Dean didn't leave his side unless he really had to, and even Castiel was around most of the time, although Sam couldn't tell if it was because of him or just because the seraph wanted to stay with Dean.  
  
The two of them distracted him from his worries, especially those concerning Gabriel - while all the hallucinations had gotten to him, shaken him up to the core, it was the one thing that was pressing down on him the most. Ever since he'd left that night, the archangel hadn't returned. And Sam felt like he'd really fucked it up this time. It was his fault. And no one could convince him of the opposite.

  
\---

  
  
On the day of his release, Castiel didn't even come to the hospital in the morning because he was busy preparing some kind of miniature celebration, according to Dean at least, and while the gesture was really sweet and all, Sam wasn't exactly in the mood for a party. He let it slide without objections anyway because he knew just how relieved his brother and the angel were about his eventual return from dreamland.  
  
He'd prayed to Gabriel before he'd gone to sleep the day before, and he prayed when he woke up. Because again, the angel hadn't been around. There'd been nightmares. And the only thing Sam could do was try to get him back, try to apologize, try to make him understand how endlessly sorry he was. Dean gave him a strange look when he walked in and saw Sam on the bed with his hands intertwined, but he couldn't care less.  
  
He weakly pushed the covers away, in order to finally get up from the uncomfortable bed to change and get out of there but Dean's voice had him freeze in place.  
  
\- "Sammy? The hell?", he huffed from the other side of the room and Sam looked up at his brother, confused, seeing the irritated frown on his brother's face. Wordlessly, the older hunter pointed at something, at _him_.  
  
Slowly, he looked down.  
  
His breath hitched as he felt the deep sadness fall from his shoulders in a matter of split seconds. His hands started to tremble as a weak smile flashed over his face.  
  
There was something coursing through him, something warm and comforting and pleasant and _bright_.  
  
Under the blanket, in his lap, laid a single golden feather. And on his chest, right above his beating heart, the imprint of a hand so much smaller than his own.


End file.
